


The Problem with Bikini Season

by Th3spian



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Heart-to-Heart, LGBTQ Themes, Summer Vacation, Trans Mordred | Saber of Red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26013724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Th3spian/pseuds/Th3spian
Summary: As the annual summer event approaches, Astolfo and Mordred discuss their struggles with their respective gender identities.
Relationships: Astolfo | Rider of Black & Mordred | Saber of Red
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	The Problem with Bikini Season

**Author's Note:**

> This story uses they/them and he/him pronouns for Astolfo and Mordred, respectively.

Astolfo skipped into their bedroom with a pastel-colored bag in hand. One week earlier, they had commissioned Mata Hari to make a swimsuit for them, and today it was finally complete. There was no time like the present to try it on. They excitedly pulled a frilly light blue bikini out of the bag.

Astolfo, much like everyone else in Chaldea, was anxiously awaiting the annual summer event. It was a nice relief from the life-or-death battles that they were used to. Plus, they would have a legitimate excuse to show off some skin. Granted, Astolfo did that all the time anyway, but still. Standing in front of the mirror, they pulled off their shirt and tried on the top from the swimsuit. It looked and felt a bit like a bralette, but with some light padding to make their chest look slightly larger. Perfect. That just left the other half...

“Oi, Astolfo! Let me in!”

Astolfo heard a bang on their door. It was Mordred, no doubt here to vent about whatever was bothering him that day. It wasn’t the first time he did this, and it wouldn’t be the last. They opened the door and gestured for him to come in.

“You are not going to believe this,” he said angrily. He held out a red bikini top, not even trying to hide his disgust. “This is what Master thinks would be a good swimsuit for me. Who does he think I am?!” Astolfo knew that Mordred was struggling with his gender identity, but he was still hesitant to really open up about it. Evidently, this was the breaking point.

“What’s so bad about it?” Astolfo asked. “Too revealing?”

“It just...doesn’t make me feel like me. I don’t want Master to see me as another girl. I don’t want to be eye candy.”

“Then what do you want? Do you want to be a man? You did ask me to call you ‘he.’”

Mordred hesitated. “I guess I’m not sure.” He threw the bikini top onto the bed and sat down in a chair near the door. “I still don’t get you, Astolfo. How can you be so carefree about this stuff?”

Astolfo folded their arms and thought back to their life before becoming a Servant. “I guess it all started when I was one of Charlemagne’s paladins. My cousin Roland fell in love with a queen named Angelica, but when she rejected him, he went ballistic. One of the ideas we had was for me to dress up as a girl to cheer him up. So, I did.”

“And that didn’t bother you?”

“Nope. To me, I was just trying to help Roland. Not only that, but when I was actually doing it, it was liberating. It was the one time in my life when I legitimately felt cute. I wanted to dress like that more often, but in those days, it never would have been accepted. My only option was to go back to living as a man. But then again, I guess being a man wasn’t the _worst_ thing ever. Like that time I—”

“Okay, I get it,” Mordred interrupted. “It sounds like you were never really satisfied with the cards life dealt you. That makes two of us.”

“Hmm...I guess I never thought about it that way. To tell you the truth, I don’t think about a lot of things. I just do what feels right.” Astolfo put their hands on their chest, showing off their new swimsuit. “It’s like this thing. It fits, and it’s cute, so I’m wearing it. What’s stopping you from doing the same?”

Mordred rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t want to be cute. Duh. It makes me feel like a girl.”

“Oh, right. So you’re not sure if you want to be a guy, but you _definitely_ don’t want to be a girl. Am I hearing you right?”

“Yeah, pretty much. But it’s not like I can just wear a man’s swimsuit instead.” He looked down at his chest. “These dumb things are in the way.”

Just then, Astolfo had an idea. “What if we did something to flatten your chest? You know, like a binder?”

“A binder, huh? I’ve never tried one of those. How would we even get one?”

Astolfo threw on a jacket to cover up and headed for the door. “Wait right here. I’ll be back in a flash!” They ran as fast as their legs could carry them back to Mata Hari. Once Astolfo explained what was going on, she lent them a few garments that might work. They could barely get a “thank you” out before dashing off again, back to their own room.

Mordred held a maroon binder from the pile out in front of him. “I guess there’s only one way to find out if this will work.” He went over to the corner of the room and took his shirt off, his back facing Astolfo. It wasn’t like they would ever sneak a peek at him, but they knew he was insecure about his chest, so they turned around and closed their eyes. After a few moments of silence, Astolfo heard footsteps behind them, followed by a squeal of excitement.

“How is it?” Astolfo asked, turning back around.

“I’m flat now!” Mordred gushed. He couldn’t take his eyes off the mirror. “I should have tried this years ago! I look badass!” 

Astolfo had never seen him look or sound so happy. “You know what we gotta do now, right?”

“What?”

They threw off their jacket and skirt before slipping their new bikini bottoms on over their underwear. “STRUT OUR STUFF!” Taking Mordred by the wrist, Astolfo pulled him back out into the hallway.

Mordred yanked his arm away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he protested.

“What, you don’t want to go show everyone your new look?”

“I do, but I want to do it right.” He went back into Astolfo’s room and started rummaging through their drawers. “You got any trunks or something here?”

“Bottom shelf, all the way to the right.”

“Bingo!” Before Astolfo could even say anything, Mordred kicked off his shorts and put on a pair of gold swimming trunks.

“Ready now?”

“You bet. Master’s probably wondering where I am by now, anyway.” Mordred hadn’t even asked whether he could borrow them, but Astolfo didn’t care. They were just happy that he was feeling better.

“You think he’ll be okay with your new look?” Astolfo asked.

“He better be.” Mordred looked back down at his flattened chest as they walked. “I thought about what you said a minute ago, how you just do what feels right. Well, for me, looking like this is what feels right. If Master doesn’t like it, that’s his problem.”

Astolfo smiled. Ultimately, it didn’t matter what label Mordred used to identify himself. That could wait for another day. The important thing was making sure he could enjoy summer on his own terms. In that regard, the two Servants were more alike than different.


End file.
